Clean slates, dirty laundry
by Pillow Bosom
Summary: Good old troupes, so easy to fall back on. My two favorite characters are off to uni, will a change of scenery and a bit of growing up be good for them? As always, there will be lemons, because life's no fun without lemonade.
1. Won't let you talk me down

Helga was so engrossed in her book that she didn't realise someone was climbing up the ladder until she caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision. She jumped, her heart thudding in surprise, and thudding harder when she realised who it was.

"Oh, Hey Arnold." She croaked. _What the hell is he doing here?_

He flinched at her voice, his eyes raking up and down her as he clambered up onto the wooden floor. Her heart fluttered as she appraised him, she almost never saw him up close nowadays. He was just in a hoodie and jeans, both wet. The hair falling into his eyes was beaded with water, his face was pale, drawn.

"Hi, Helga." She could hear the petulance in his voice and her heart sank. She supposed she couldn't blame him for hating her…

"Whatcha doin?" She tried to keep her voice light, she couldn't remember the last time she had spoken directly to Arnold. He fell into the chair beside her, his eyes swept around the space.

"Just trying to find some peace and quiet."

_Well… that was a hint if ever I heard one. _"Yeah, Pete's good for that." Helga said softly and turned back to her book, resting her chin in her palm.

It was peaceful, sitting in the old tree house in the rain. The rustling of Pete's leaves and the occasional crackle as Helga turned a page in her book made it easy to ignore the traffic noise. A light fleece blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, her feet up on the seat. She was warm and cosy, and alone _with Arnold. _She could hear him fidgeting, stretching his legs out, tapping his feet on the wooden boards of the floor. She turned a page, not quite sure if she was reading the words in front of her eyes or not.

"What do you do when it gets dark?" He asked suddenly, surprising her. Since when did Mr Shortman ever initiate conversations Miss Pataki?

She raised an eyebrow at him. "That's rather forward of you, don't ya think?" A smile curved her lips, mocking him. He shook his head.

"Reading, I mean. Do you have a torch or something?"

She grinned. "Better than that." She bent the corner of her page over and closed the book, slapping it down onto the beer crate that served as a table between the chairs. Leaning over, she pulled a backpack up off the floor into her lap. "Camping lantern." She put it on the crate and turned it on.

White light flooded the small space. "Cool… what else you got in there?" He leaned forward, actually smiling. _This is… strange._

"Uh…" she peered into the bag. "Water, coke, chips, cookies… another book, if you wanted to read a cheap sci-fi?" She looked up at him "I wasn't expecting company, sorry. But feel free to help yourself to my meagre offerings." She held the bag out.

Arnold waved the bag away. "No thanks. Not hungry." He rubbed at his arms, the wet fabric bunched beneath his fingers. Helga tugged at her blanket, feeling suddenly guilty… the poor guy was saturated!

"Cold?"

He smiled ruefully at her "Freezing."

She leaned forward again, twisting to pull a grey sweatshirt from where it was jammed between her back and the chair. "If you don't mind smelling like a girl?" She held it out to him. "It's huge on me, so you should be fine."

He took it from her fingers. "Shit, thanks Helga." He stood to tug off his wet jumper, frowning when he realised that the water had soaked through to his T-shirt.

"Don't mention it." She curled back into her chair, regarding him. "Take off your shirt, dumbass, or you'll just get wet again." She scowled. "And before you ask, no, I don't care if you're naked under my jumper… look, I'll even close my eyes." She put her hands over her eyes theatrically.

_Arnold's wearing my sweatshirt. _She heard the _slap _of wet fabric as he dropped it on the floor. Even after all this time, he made her feel _funny. _She wasn't in love with him anymore, by any means… but some part of her ego wanted him to acknowledge her, and that same bit of ego made her sensitive around him. _Damn. _She thought that would have stopped by now… she hadn't even really talked to him in years. She mentally slapped herself. _Stop being a moron. _She scolded herself.

"Look at that, it's a perfect fit." He mused as he hung his damp clothes over a bunch of sticks that had been stacked in a corner.

"Always prepared, that's me!" She saluted him.

"Yeah… you are…" He eyed her again, all curled up in her blanket thing, with her book and her lantern. "You come up here often or something?"

She shrugged, her chin in her hand again, her elbow on the arm of the chair. "I suppose so. Gotta get out of that house sometimes, y'know?"

His laugh was derisive. "yeah… I know." He sighed.

They sat in silence for a minute, both of them looking out into the rain. "So, Football Head, why are you hanging out in a tree house with _me _of all people, instead of getting shitfaced at a party and shagging some chick you hardly know… like a _normal _teenager?" She grinned "After all, it _is _Friday night."

It was his turn to shrug. "I dunno. I just used to go to parties to give Gerald moral support… now that he's _finally _gotten up the guts to ask Phoebe out, I don't get dragged along anymore."

"Ditched for the new girlfriend, huh?"

Arnold frowned. "Not really. A little I suppose, but I don't mind. I don't actually like those massive piss-ups, to tell you the truth."

She chuckled. "Why doesn't that surprise me."

He chose to ignore that. "What about you, PacMan… how come you aren't at whatever big shitstorm is brewing tonight?"

"I hate that name." She scowled. _Pacman Pataki… chasing down freshmen to eat in the hallways._

"I know you do… probably not as much as I hate _Football Head _though… so answer the question."

"Fair enough." She tugged her blanket thing tighter around her. "Uh… fuck. I dunno. I hate parties. I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm not exactly a people person." She grinned ruefully. "Honestly, I don't feel like I'm missing out. I only have a good time if I get pissed, and the last thing I want is to turn into my mother, so I just keep away from those things as much as I can."

She cringed as she heard the words leave her mouth, twisting out into the ether. _Too much, I must be more tired than I thought. _She never talked about Miriam… it was embarrassing enough to have an alcoholic train wreck of a mother without inserting her presence into conversation.

"So you come sit in a tree, instead."

"Hey man, you're up here too!" She grinned. "I don't know why more people don't come up here, actually… not that I'm complaining. But you'd think this place would be inundated with drunk kids on the weekends."

Arnold laughed. "They've tried. Mr Roberts calls the cops as soon as there's any noise."

"Ah, that's it. Cool… my retreat stays mine." She grabbed the bottle of water from her bag and took a slug. "Snack?" She offered, trying to keep the conversation in safe waters.

He took a cookie. "Thanks… Hey, Helga…" He started, unsure whether to proceed.

"Yeah?"

"Are you OK, like, with your family?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you don't want to go home."

They sat in silence, Helga's gaze fell to her lap. Eventually, she sighed. "No, not really. Miriam drinks because Bob's a cheating, bullying asshole. I'm not being actively abused or anything Arnold, you don't need to call the cops… it's just not a nice place to be."

_Well, so much for benign chit-chat._

Her fingers toyed with her blanket thing, pulling at the tassels on one corner. "You can always come to my place, if you need a place to stay." Arnold said softly.

She couldn't look at him. An infuriating mix of shame and elation roiled in her stomach. She _wanted _to hang out with Arnold, but not under the pretence of _pity_.

"I'm not a stray, Arnold." She murmured, her brow furrowing as she concentrated on destroying her blanket.

He sighed. "Don't be like that."

"Like what."

"Like throwing a perfectly reasonable offer back in my face. I'm not asking you to move in, just offering you a place to crash if you need it." They sat for a second. "Actually, fuck that, I'm offering you somewhere to hang out, so you don't need to spend all your evenings in a tree."

"So we can be like Forrest Gump and Jen-nay?" Helga scoffed. "I could climb through your window at night and we could cosy up beneath the covers." Arnold cringed, that sarcastic sneer was in her voice. _Why do I do this?_

"Why is that such an outrageous idea? What the hell is it about me that makes you so sure we could never be friends? Why can't we just hang out like normal people?"

"Because you make me feel uncomfortable!" She barked. "I don't know what to say! _Oh yes please Arnold! I would love to come and crash on your sofa when my father decides to have a tantrum and throw his dinner plate through the television again! Can you get me a key cut?"_ She glared at him, watching his face collapse, but she couldn't shut up. "How am I supposed to tell you the shit that goes on at home? What if I just want to curl up and bawl my eyes out? I couldn't do that in front of you. What would I even say at the front door? _Hi Phil, just come to escape my horrible household again, yes, I'd love to stay for dinner, thanks."_

"Do you talk to _anyone?"_

"Yes."

"Who."

"Dr Bliss."

He blinked. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. For ages now, off and on."

"Well shit. I never knew."

"Yeah, only Phoebe knows. I suppose it goes without saying that you should keep that to yourself?" She glared again, furious at herself for being unable to _shut her damn mouth_.

Arnold smiled. "Yeah. You know I wouldn't say anything." He sighed. "Would Dr Bliss tell you to accept my offer?"

Helga growled, throwing her head back and closing her eyes in frustration. "Well fuck, Arnold. Yes, she probably would."

"So why won't you?"

"Because I don't want you to _pity_ me!" It was all too much. She jumped up from her chair, pulling the blanket thing off her and bundling it up. "This is all going wrong. I didn't want this. I thought when you came up here that we might actually just… I dunno… talk like _normal people _or something for once. But you have to get all heavy, always prodding and poking and shit. Why can't you just let it go?"

She stuffed the blanket into her bag, ranting as she went. "I can take care of myself, you know. I've been doing it for long enough. If you invite me over to your place, I want you to do it because you want to spend time with me, not because you see me as some pathetic waif who needs babysitting."

"Helga, please…"

"… No! I don't want you to pay attention to me because you _feel sorry_ for me." She tugged her jacket from where it was hooked on the back of her chair and wrenched it onto her arms. "You've only ever noticed me when you've felt bad for me, and I fucking hate it. _That's _why I can't accept your offer. You don't treat me like I'm a whole person… you treat me like all I am is my shitty domestic situation."

She slung her bag over one shoulder and stomped to where the ladder hung from the floor. "Keep the sweatshirt." She growled before she hooked her feet in the rungs and disappeared from sight.

Helga heard him call to her as she stormed across the grass. "I'm sorry, OK? Come back!" She balled her hands into fists. "Aw, c'mon! Don't… don't…" But she turned out onto the footpath and she couldn't hear him anymore.


	2. Soft tongue and sharp teeth

"Helga!"

Helga tensed up when she heard her name. It was late, after four, on graduation day, and she had just handed the key to the principal after locking up the school newspaper office for the last time. Who on earth would still be around, and why were they calling for her?

"Hey, Helga!" The voice sounded closer, and she had a sinking feeling that she recognised its owner. She turned around. _Ah shit. _Arnold was jogging across the field towards her, raising a hand in greeting when he caught her eye.

"Uh… hi." Helga stammered as Arnold came up to her. It had been months since they had last spoken, since she had bawled him out in Mighty Pete. What on _earth _did he want with her now?

"Hi. Uh… you heading home?" He smiled nervously, his thumbs hooked behind the straps of his backpack, his hair falling into his eyes.

She nodded.

"Can I walk you?" He was taller than she remembered. She couldn't remember the last time they stood so close, but she had to look up to meet his gaze.

"You gonna offer to carry my books, too?" She scoffed. He looked confused, unsure whether she was teasing him, or taking the piss. She sighed. "Sure, Football Head… walk me to your hearts content." She turned on her heel to stalk off across the grass.

"So, uh… you going to the party?" Arnold asked, glancing at her. _Jesus, why does he look so fucking nervous? It's not like I've never lost my shit at him before._

"Yeah. Phoebe threatened to disown me if I don't go… you know how she is about traditions."

"Stringent?" he offered.

Helga laughed. "That's a nice way of putting it. I swear she's developing OCD." She hefted her bag from one shoulder to the other. "So, Football Head, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The pleasure?" He sounded genuinely confused.

Helga stopped walking and turned to face him. "It's been months since I last, uh, _spoke _to you. You've voluntarily found me, offered to walk me home, and now you're attempting small talk. What's the deal?"

"Hell, Helga, you don't beat around the bush, do you?" He frowned.

"I prefer the term _mince words_. But whatever floats your boat, Shortman." She stood defiant. "Honestly Arnold, I'm not pissy at you or anything. But you're all nervous and jumpy and shit… and you have _never _approached me like this before. If something's up, then just spit it out, you don't need to act the gentleman with me. OK?"

He gaped, swallowed… "OK, yeah… I, uh…" He sighed. "I wanted to say that you were right and that I'm sorry. For, uh, patronising you, I suppose." He shifted on his feet, moved his eyes from her face. "I've been thinking about what you said in the tree house, a lot, and… and I suppose I just kinda took for granted that we were friends, purely because we've known each other for so long."

Helga was speechless… but he wasn't finished. "I just figured I'd leave you alone, you seemed so mad at me… but then, I found out you got into Berkeley, and you said you only wanted me to, um… ask you to hang out, if I found you interesting, or something. I forget what exact words you used."

_Berkeley?_ Helga stared. _What the fuck is going on here? _"You're going to Berkeley too?"

He frowned at the interruption. "Well, yeah." He rushed on "But I suppose you got under my skin, because I've been thinking about it, and I, uh… I do think you're interesting, and I do want to, uh, hang out… I mean, yeah, if it isn't, stupid?"

He was bright red, his adams apple lurched up and down his throat as he swallowed.

"Hold on… _you're_ going to Berkeley?" Her voice was incredulous.

"Well, I, uh… yeah! They have a really good history programme…" He reached to rub nervously at the back of his neck, showing the ridge of muscle on the inside of his arm. Again she was reminded of how much taller he had grown. She stared at him, raking her eyes over his face, a face she had once known as well as her own… his jaw was roughed by slight stubble, his eyebrows were thicker, his nose straighter than she remembered. His head wasn't even that football shaped anymore. When had he grown up?

"Wow." She ended up muttering, because she needed to say _something. _

His mouth twitched up. "It's not that amazing, Pacman… it's not like it's an obscure school or anything."

She blinked. Yeah, she must be acting like a crazy person. "Well, _duh_, _Football Head." _She rolled her eyes in petty retaliation to her hated nickname. "I just didn't think you'd wanna move so far from home, is all. She shifted her bag on her shoulder again and turned to stride off again.

Arnold hurried to catch up. "So… uh… you _are _going to Berkeley, right?"

She didn't look at him. "Course I am!" She smiled, forced her voice to sound light.

"English?"

She was conscious of how close he was so her, watching her as they walked. He might _look _older, but he still acted the same. So why was she acting like such a bumbling moron? She laughed. "What else?" Glancing over at him, she grinned. "So, you wanna hang out some time?"

He nodded, his bottom lip in his teeth, a strangely endearing tic. "Yeah. I mean… if you want." He shrugged. "I figured you'd tell me to fuck off."

She laughed. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for a monologue."

Ah, there it was… the smile that had punctuated her childhood. "I'll remember to ramble more often, then."


	3. City lights lay out before us

That first night was awkward.

The party was wild, hosted by Rhonda, of course, with no expense spared. A huge warehouse space had been decked out with long white leather sofas, huge tables buckling under platters of food, and an open bar.

Helga marvelled at how many parents were happily turning a blind eye to all this underage drinking.

Anyways… that first night was kinda stilted. Arnold obviously had it in his head that he had to be _nice _to her, to make her feel welcome or something. It wasn't great. He kept asking if he could get her another drink, or something to eat… Gerald and Phoebe giggled about it all night, and Helga had ended up cornering Arnold in the hallway out to the bathrooms, growling at him to cut the crap, making him blush and stutter, but finally acquiesce… he'd just treat her like a normal person. He promised.

Things got better after that.

He actually had a pretty wicked sense of humour, once he stopped trying to act _appropriately. _He even came back with a few quips to counter her sneering barbs. Which, weirdly, she _liked. _Who woulda thunk it? They ended up all leaving together, climbing into a cab, giddy with the heady _freedom _of graduation.

And so the holidays rolled on…

Arnold – _Hey. You coming to the beach on Saturday? There's a space in my car if you wanna ride?_

Arnold – _Yo! Gerald's coming over to mine tonight. You ladies are welcome to join us… if you bring ice cream and can sit through Star Wars?_

Arnold – _3D screening of the new Total Recall. 8.15pm. You in?_

Arnold – _Nostalgic game in Gerald's field, 10 tomorrow morning. Be there or be square._

Arnold – _You need a ride to Sid's? I'm sober driver._

Arnold – _I can swing past yours after work if you wanna watch Hellboy with me?_

It got… normal.

They bonded over a mutual love of bad movies, and ended up having similar interests, reading especially.

She let him borrow her copies of Stephen Fry's autobiographies… and he lent her his Leonard Cohen novels. She made him read Orwell essays, and he gave her a book of Bukowski she'd never managed to get her hands on.

They trawled second hand book shops together, had heated discussions over the merits of authors and stories, and more than once ditched parties early to sprawl out in Arnold's attic room and devour their latest paperback acquisitions.

It was one of those nights when Arnold had his idea.

"Hey, Helga…" He called from where he was lying flat on his back on his messy bed.

"Wait up." She finished her paragraph before looking up, her feet dangling off the end of Arnold's pivoting sofa. "Alright Football Head, what's up?"

"How are you getting to California?"

She struggled up onto her elbows, jamming her fingers in-between the pages of her book to keep her place. "Uh, flying I suppose. Why, you got a better idea?"

He pushed himself up to look at her. "I'm driving… I wanna have my car over there. I was thinking maybe you could come with me? Share the driving and stuff?" He smiled hopefully.

"Huh… that could be cool." She stretched out. "How long would we take?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I was going to try make the trip in a few days. But if there were two of us, we could take a week or something? See some sights?"

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Stay in seedy motels… eat at shitty diners…"

"The American dream." Arnold nodded. They grinned at each other.

"Alright Football Head, it's a date." She was beaming. This could be _so much fun_.

…

Phoebe – _I miss you already. Send me postcards! Tell Arnold to drive safely! Good luck, Ms Pataki. Xx_

Helga sniffed as she tapped out her reply, they weren't even quite out of the city yet, her eyes were still damp from their goodbyes… "Phebes says to drive safe." She dropped her phone into her lap and stretched out, sneakily watching Arnold as he tried to concentrate on the traffic.

"Yeah… she was pretty stern about that back at your place." He chuckled, leaning over the steering wheel to look past a van. "So was your dad, actually. A bit unfair if you ask me… I've never even gotten a parking fine!"

"Dad?" Helga frowned. "You mean, Bob?"

Every now and then Arnold would give her a sideways look that made her feel like she was a crazy person. This was one of those times. "Well, I didn't mean the Jolly Olly man." His cheek dimpled with his lop-sided smile. "Yes… _Bob. _He told me I better get you to uni in one piece, or to _kiss my keister goodbye._"

"Really? Huh." Bob displaying fatherly concern? Odd. She chewed on a fingernail, watching buildings pass by the window. "We should stop somewhere and get snacks."

He nodded. "Sure. There's a couple of Redbulls in the back somewhere if you need caffeine?" He grinned again. "Excited?"

She shrugged. "Yeah? Sure… why not?"

"Try rein in your enthusiasm there, Pataki… might take an eye out." He raised a quick eyebrow at her while negotiating lane changes.

"Ah shut it." She stretched out, flicking her sandals off and putting her bare feet on the dashboard.

He raised an eyebrow at that, too. No doubt having your feet up was a hazard or something, but he didn't say anything about it. "Alright, grumpy guts, open the glove box."

Sitting on top of the normal collection of papers, old pens and McDonalds receipts, was a bar of milk macadamia chocolate. "Ah Shortman… you know how to treat a lady."

He snorted. "Sure… but what am I supposed to do with you?"


	4. She must be plum crazy

"_Helga?"_

"Hey Phebes!"

"_Helga! You arrived in one piece?"_

Helga laughed, she had kept Phoebe abreast of her every move over the past week, but she was still so _worried. _Projection, Helga figured. "Yes, Phebes, I'm all safe n' sound…"

"You'd think she didn't trust me or something." Arnold grumbled, jabbing Helga in the ribs between bits of Chinese food.

Phoebe giggled. "_Tell Arnold I trust _him _just fine. It's the rest of the crazies on the road I was worried about." _But before Helga could relay the message, she rushed on. "_So, how is it? Is your room nice? Have you met your roommate? Are you all moved in?"_

"Geeze Phebes, one at a time, huh?" She settled down onto the little sofa, nudging Arnold with her arm. "It seems fine. It doesn't smell bad or anything, which is a relief. It's tiny, but that's to be expected… um… I met my roommate. Her name's Sandy. Not quite sure what to think about her."

"She seemed nice." Arnold stuck his two cents in.

"Well, sure, she seemed _nice_. But she just kept going on and on and _on _about her boyfriend. It was kinda creepy."

"Well, yeah… that was a little odd.' Arnold agreed.

"_And are you all moved in?"_

"Yeah. There wasn't much to move, to be honest. We did Arnold's room already."

"_And his roommates?"_

Helga wanted to laugh. Phoebe was so cute, so polite. "Uh, we only met one. Some guy called Dan? He seemed pretty cool."

"Despite his Nickleback collection?"

"No one's perfect. I seem to recall _someone_ having Justin Timberlake on their iPod."

"_Really? I wouldn't have guessed that of him."_ Phoebe tittered as Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Yeah… I _might _have made him listen to sexyback for an entire afternoon."

"_How did you manage that?"_

"I was driving. Whoever's behind the wheel chooses the music. His rules… he began to regret that, I think."

"_Was… was that all OK?" _

"Arnold? Sure." She eyeballed him, grinning when he turned to her with a frown on his face.

"What about me?"

"She just wants to know if the trip was OK. I would call it a success. I didn't kill you!"

He stared at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. "You _tried _to. Remember the Wyoming incident?"

She stared back. "What are you, a sissy? That was hardly a fight."

The look on his face was incredulous. "You were _screaming _at me in public!"

"And you were being an asshole." She was glaring now.

"_Uh, Helga?" _Phoebe tried to interject, but she was ignored.

"An _asshole_? I was only gone for ten minutes!"

"Yeah! Ten minutes surrounded by the creepiest rednecks I've ever seen!"

"_Helga?"_

"I _told you_, I wouldn't have left you alone if they had been there when I left!"

"Don't forget I was _asleep_, with the doors unlocked! Who knows what those freaks could have…"

"_HELGA!"_

"Oh… yeah?"

"_Uh, I think I might leave you and Arnold to talk things out…"_

"What? This? Nah, it's fine. Ain't it, Shorty?" She elbowed him, grinning when he shook his head at her.

"_I should go anyway. I'm meeting Gerald at seven."_

Helga frowned for a second. "Time differences are weird. OK Phebes, text me when you're settled and I'll give you a call?"

"_OK Helga."_

"Seeya Phebes, love you."

"_You too._"

She sighed as the line clicked off and slid further into the couch, her thigh pressed up against Arnold's.

"Your food's getting cold." He used his chopsticks to edge her lunch across the coffee table. "You OK?"

She smiled, reaching over to grab her food and start shovelling it into her mouth. "Yeah, just knackered." Leaning back she regarded the small room they were sitting in. "It's not too bad in here, huh?"

He slouched down with her. "It's a damn sight nicer than mine. At least you get a room to yourself."

"Yeah. That's going to suck. Three guys in a room, all farting and burping and shit… gross." She stuck her tongue out, pretending to gag.

He groaned. "Don't rub it in. Not everyone's parents are loaded."

She shrugged, feeling suddenly a little bad. He was right, she'd managed to wrangle a good deal outta Bob. As long as she didn't rack up massive bills, she could use one of his credit cards, she was lucky. Arnold's family was as broke as ever, not that she cared, but she knew he got shy about it sometimes. "It'll be fine. Heaps of people live in those dorms… it can't be _that _bad, or no one would do it." She patted his knee in a moment of sympathy. "Besides, you can always come over here and hang out. I have a feeling that I won't see much of Sandy."

He snorted. "_Really_? Now what makes you say that?"

"Oh, I think I just remember her mentioning something about her boyfriend's flat? That it's huge and flash, or something like that…"

"Hmmm, now that you mention it, that does sound familiar. Did she happen to say she would be staying with him at all?"

"Oh, she just mentioned it… in passing…"

"So, just once or twice?"

"Just once or twice…"

They paused, each biting their lips, eyes sparkling with mirth. "You… are such a bitch." Arnold sputtered eventually, his cheeks reddening.

She grinned. "You love it."

"You know what, Pacman… I kinda do. You may be a bad influence, but you're not boring."

"D-aw… Shortman! I'm all a-flutter!" She waved her free hand in front of her face, fanning away imaginary tears. "Not. Boring… I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!"

He rolled his eyes. "Such a tender moment." He shoved himself up from the sofa. "I should probably get back to my gross, smelly boys room."

"Aw man, you sure?" Helga pouted. "My laptop's charged now, we could watch something."

"Aren't you sick of me yet?" He shook his head at her.

"Never!" She crowed, flinging her arms up, rice falling from her fork. "Oops."

"I'll go back, unpack and shower and stuff… I'll text you later, see what you're up to. Cool?"

She exhaled dramatically. "_Fine."_ She tried to sulk, stuck her bottom lip out, but he just laughed at her.

"Seeya later Pacman."

"Seeya, Shorty."

He let himself out, and she fell sideways onto the cushions, managing to keep her dinner upright.

"I _hate _unpacking." She declared to the empty room.

…

"So did you go for the usual alphabetical-by-author arrangement?" Helga had her phone jammed between her ear and her shoulder, and a bottle of nail polish balanced on the arm of the sofa, her feet up on the coffee table. "Or did you decide to go for a more avant garde organisational scheme?"

Phoebe's light laugh tittered from the other end of the line. _"You won't believe this… but they are arranged by colour."_

Helga let out a long whistle. "You're a bold kid, Phoebe… a booold kid." They snorted in laughter. "Speaking of Geraldo, how did he take your parting?"

Phoebe's hesitation told Helga everything she needed to know. "_Not that great." _She eventually murmured. _"Helga, may I ask you something?"_

"Anything."

"_Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" _

Helga's heart cramped at the fear in Phoebe's voice. "With Gerald?"

"_Yes."_

She closed her eyes to think about it, knowing that Phoebe appreciated honest, considered answers, rather than comforting platitudes. Eventually, she sighed. "I really don't know, Phebes. I just keep thinking about how _I_ couldn't do it… but I'm not you. Long-distance relationships are notoriously difficult, but I think if anyone can pull it off, it would be you and Johanssen." She pressed her forehead against her knee, trying to find the right words… "You know he's always been nuts about you… I'm not gonna say it'll be easy, but I think it's worth a shot."

"_Do you really think so?"_

"Of course I do, you ninny."

There was a pause as Phoebe thought for a second_. "And do you think you will be alright?" _Her question was soft, searching. Helga gritted her teeth.

"You mean with Shortman?" She tried, quite successfully she thought, to keep the exasperation from her voice.

"_Hmmm." _Phoebe hummed in affirmation.

She struggled to smother an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, Phebes… it's all good, I promise."

"_I don't mean to make you uncomfortable… I just know how you used to feel about him…" _

"Yeah… I know. But it's just not like that anymore. I mean… sure, I can see that he's attractive n' all, you'd have to be crazy to not see that… but I'm not attracted _to_ him, y'know?"

"_What about him? to you?"_

Helga couldn't help it, she laughed outright at that one. "Geeze Phebes, you've been spending too much time with Rhonda. Listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth… there is _nothing like that _between Arnold and me. There's no secret longing, no angst… you don't have to worry, OK?"

"_OK."_ But she didn't sound convinced.

Helga rolled her eyes. "_Anyway_, do you start class tomorrow?"

They chatted away for another half hour, taking full advantage of Helga's free plan (courtesy of the Big Bob Cellular Emporium, of course), before they said their goodbyes.

A text had come through while she was talking to Phoebe, clicking into her inbox, she read:

Arnold – _Would Ms Pataki care to grace me with her presence? I have a hankering for greasy takeaways and sugary, carbonated beverages. Please RSVP ASAP, as I am due to expire from famishment._

She was laughing as she tapped out her reply. He was _such _a dork when he was in the mood for it.

Helga – _Dear Mr. Shortman. I would be charmed to accept your generous invitation. Unless I receive word to the contrary, I shall be waiting in front of my lodgings when the clock strikes five._

She shook her head as she pressed send. Yeah… she supposed she could see why phoebe was worried about her and Arnold. If she didn't know better, she'd think there was something between them too.


	5. No fun with no guilt feelings

"I really don't know, Arnold… those sort of things aren't really my… thing…" she finished lamely.

"Oh _come on _Helga!" Arnold cried, collapsing backwards on her bed and eyeing her accusingly. "We have to meet new people, yeah?" She nodded. She _was _meeting new people. She just wasn't sure she wanted to go to a wannabe frat boy party. "So _please _come with me to this? Spend just two hours with me, and I'll walk you home after."

Helga sighed. Her toes curled up in her socks. How, after all these years, could he still do this to her? Damn him and his puppy-dog eyes.

She shook her head. "You're going to make me do this, aren't you?"

"It's for your own good."

"You know what's actually good for me? Watching BBC comedies and eating pizza. Still being able to function on Saturdays is good for me…"

Arnold laughed, stood up. "I'll be back at six, with pizza. We can finish the last season of The Inbetweeners… then we go to the party. Deal?"

Helga scowled. "Deal. A shit deal… but deal."

He patted her on the head as he passed, "See ya then, Pacman. I'll let myself out."

She groaned when he closed the door. A party? Really? She had managed to talk herself out of a few of them so far, but they had been here a couple of months already, she supposed she had to get out of her little apartment at some point.

But what if the people at the party were dickheads?

She had over an hour before her next lecture. Two hours of that, and she'd be back home around five, enough time for a shower before Arnold got there… What should she _wear_?

She was still wondering that come six o'clock. Her hair was wet, she was wrapped in a towel, staring at her open drawers. She wore jeans basically every day. Should she wear a dress or something? Nah… she didn't want to feel even more uncomfortable. She _should _dress up though, shouldn't she?

She did have nice jeans… basically unworn, and some _nice _tops. She glanced down at her boobs. Maybe she should put them on show for once. She quite liked her boobs… but she just hated the misogynistic crap she got for them. She was going out with _Arnold _though. If he had even realised she had breasts, he did a very good job of hiding it. She would be out with a genuine white knight… she should be fine.

Not that she couldn't take care of herself, of course.

There was a knock at the door. Typical Arnold, always on time.

She grimaced, self-consciousness making her nervous. She padded to the door, opened it just a crack, and peeped out into the hall.

"C'mon Pataki, I'm about to drop this shit." Arnold's hands were full with pizza boxes and heavy-looking plastic bags.

"Be warned. I am not decent." She scowled.

He shrugged, almost losing the pizza in the process. "Just let me in!"

She pulled the door open and let him pass her. He just got the pizza on the table before it slid from his hands. He flexed his fingers, red from where the plastic bags he had dumped on the floor had been cutting into his skin.

"I got you a six pack of that Japanese beer you like, and a bottle of sav. Choose one though, I don't want you getting completely… uh… shit faced…" Arnold stuttered when he spun around. "Get some clothes on and we'll eat. How are you not ready yet?"

Helga glared. "Are you my fucking mother? No? Good. Put on the show, I'll be out in a second." She stomped into her bedroom. She was already moisturised, so she ferreted around in her underwear drawer for one of the few pairs of slinky panties she owned. The pink ones, kinda lacy… she had a bra to match, somewhere… ah ha! She pulled it on, did it up, and slid her hands into the cups to tug her boobs up a bit.

"Ta-da!" she chortled, grinning to herself in the mirror. _Cleavage. _She had to admit, it _was _pretty awesome. She dug out her good jeans, skin-tight skinny legs, and finally whittled her choice of tops down to three. A silvery silk tank top thing, a dusky pink satin top with buttons and a lilac slinky t shirt with birds printed on it. All three were low-cut, so it was basically down to colour.

"Hey, Shortman." Helga poked her head out of the bedroom door. "Blue, pink or silver?"

"Probably silver." He called back, not looking at her as he fiddled with her computer.

"Silver it is." She mumbled to herself. She pulled the top on over her head, assessing her reflection in the mirror. Okay… this would do. She pulled her favourite _good _boots from her wardrobe (wedge-heeled black combat boots) slid a chunky bronze bracelet onto her wrist and smeared make-up across her features. She re-combed her hair, put on a pair of socks, and transferred all her cards and crap into her favourite leather biker jacket.

"Ahem." She stood in the doorway, her boots and jacket in her hands.

"The socks are a good look, Pataki." Arnold said through a mouthful of pizza. "Very sexy."

She sighed, throwing herself into a chair and grabbing a pizza slice. "Why do I even bother?" she asked, leaning forward as she ate, so as not to get food on her top.

Arnold swallowed his mouthful and grinned. "Because you love me and want to make me happy. Obviously."

She snorted "Really? I thought it was because I pity you and I want to see you make a drunken fool of yourself."

"On that note…" Arnold reached into one of the bags at his feet and pulled out two bottles of beer. "Where's your opener?"

…

"Yeah yeah… it's not _so _bad." Helga rolled her eyes at Arnold's triumphant little smile.

He put his arm around her and gave her a little squeeze. "I told you it would be fine. Gimme a text if you can't find me or anything, ok?"

She shook her head as he swanned off into the crowd. Bloody optimistic loon. He was right though, the party was fun. She had befriended a group of undergrads out on the porch and had spent most of the night talking animatedly about everything from 18th century poetry to Game of Thrones.

She tried to shoulder through the crowd, which was getting pretty thick. Sighing, she tried to squeeze through a group of drunken freshmen, when a hand came from nowhere and grabbed her ass.

She jumped like she'd been bitten.

Spinning around, she came face to face with the leering, drunken visage of some popped-collar moron. She stood there, mouth open, shocked, as he looked her up and down.

"Nice ass." He grinned. Right before her fist rammed into his stomach. _Ooof. _Now that was a satisfying sound. The guy doubled over, holding his ribs.

"Don't touch me, asshole." She sneered at the loser before she turned on her heel and stalked back towards the porch. There was a mixed reaction to her outburst… mostly laughing, but a few shocked gasps, and one call of 'bitch' to which she just pulled the fingers.

"Nice shot." A low voice laughed in her ear. A tall, dark man stood in the front doorway, leaning against the frame.

She grinned. "Thanks." She couldn't remember the guys name… he had been out on the porch with her before, and from memory, he was a fan of Peake.

"Would I get a reaction like that if I were to ask you to dance?"

_Whoa. _She just blinked at his for a second, her mind searching desperately for what to say. He was good looking, so good looking that she had instantly discounted him. _No one _that hot would ever look twice at her… or so she had thought. She swallowed.

"Uh… I'm not really one for dancing…" she stammered eventually.

He grinned. "I'm not so sure I believe that… but is there anything else I could ask you to do that would just involve the two of us and, uh, wouldn't earn me a beating?"

"You're kidding, right?" Her voice was incredulous.

His smiled faltered, he held up his free hand, palm forward. "If you're not interested, I'm sorry… you're just… intriguing."

She gaped. "I… I'm interested. I mean… I thought you were joking." She realised she must look like she was a crazy person, and she blushed at the thought. She tucked her hair behind her ear and reminded herself to smile. "You just wanna go somewhere and talk, maybe?"

His smile returned, exposing white, slightly crooked teeth. "Lead the way."

…

"Yeah, I know what that's like." Matt smiled ruefully. "My mostly-absent father is a raging alcoholic. It's fucking disgraceful."

"What about your Mom?" Helga and the tall brunette were sitting side-by-side on the small wall that surrounded the property. They were just at the edge of the light that shone through the windows, close enough to hear the music, far enough away to hear each other.

He shrugged, took a sip of his beer. "She's a nice enough lady, but she's… delicate? She doesn't cope very well with, well, anything." His lop-sided smile was sad. "She does better when she's on her own, she worries too much when I'm around."

Helga nodded, she could understand that. She fiddled with the empty beer bottle in her hands, scratching at the label with her short fingernails. She was nervous, excited. She had been sitting in the dark with a gorgeous man for the past two hours, talking about shit she had never discussed with a stranger before.

"Helga!" she jumped when she heard her name. A figure came briskly across the yard. Shit, she had forgotten all about Arnold.

"Over here!" She waved.

"Shit, Helga… I've been looking _everywhere _for you." He scowled, eyeing Matt suspiciously.

She fumbled in her jacket pockets, pulling out her phone. Four messages and two missed calls. _Oops._

"Shit… sorry man." Helga pouted out her bottom lip. "I just, uh… lost track of time."

Arnold eyed Matt again at that. "You ok?"

"Yeah… fine. Matt, Arnold, Arnold, Matt."

Matt offered his hand. "Hey." He smiled, as Arnold grudgingly shook it.

"So… you ready to go?" Arnold looked… mad.

_No. _"Um…" she glanced at Matt. _Really _not wanting to leave yet. She looked down at her phone, it was past one in the morning. She knew Arnold had to work the next day. She felt awful. She also felt kinda stuck in the middle. She didn't know what to say.

"I can walk you home, if you like." Matt said softly, smiling.

Helga felt her breath catch. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm not in any kind of rush."

She looked up at Arnold. "It's cool, Shortman. I have a bodyguard." She smiled, but Arnold's face was firm.

"Alright. Keep safe, OK, Pataki?" He stared straight into her eyes, concerned, and obviously more than a bit annoyed.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She tried to keep her voice light, but he just looked so miffed that it came out sounding desperate, more like a question than a statement.

"Sure. Seeya." He turned on his heel and stomped off, heading out the gate and in the direction of his dorm.

"Well…" Matt said slowly. "That was… awkward…"

Helga grimaced. "God, totally. I must have really pissed him off."

Matt laughed. "Yeah… or something. He isn't a boyfriend or anything, is he?"

It was Helga's turn to laugh. She shook her head. "_Arnold? _No. Not at all. We've just known each other since we were three, is all."

Mat grinned, passed her the half-full beer in his hand, the last they had between them. "Does he know that?"

Helga groaned. "The closest Arnold and I have ever come to being a couple was when he played the Romeo to my Juliette in the school play… when we were nine." _Not to mention the years I spent pining after him, writing poetry, wishing desperately that he would notice me… no… if he were interested, he would have done something about it by now._

"So you're single?"

She smiled. "Sitting out here with you for hours, alone, drinking and talking all cosy-like would be pretty inappropriate if I had a partner, don't you think?"

"You didn't answer my question." His grin was cheeky, exposing a dimple in his left cheek.

"Yeah, I'm single. What about you?"

"More single than you." She could hear the laugh in his voice. Her stomach flipped as he put his arm around her shoulders. She turned slightly to look at him. _Jesus Christ _he was good looking. All olive skin, dark eyes, long eyelashes. His square jaw was dark with stubble.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I don't even have childhood _friend _to protect me from prospective girlfriends." Oh god, why was he smiling? Was his stomach not roiling with nerves too?

"Is the Arnold thing a problem?" She asked, really not wanting to have any kind of jealous guy-shit in her life.

He squeezed her shoulder, his eyes locked onto hers. _Oh fuck. Is he going to kiss me? _"Not at all… I'm not the jealous type."

She didn't know what to say. She had to struggle to keep up with the conversation as it was. His leather-clad arm held her tight against his chest. She felt stuck, she wanted to turn to face him, but nerves held her in place, clutching at the beer.

"Would you punch me if I kissed you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. She shook her head. "Slap me?" she shook her head again. "Berate me?" and again.

His hand came up to brush a lock of hair from her face. His fingertips trailed down her cheek. Without taking his eyes from hers, he took the bottle from her hands and tossed it unceremoniously out onto the grass.

She finally turned to him, their thighs pressed together, her breast pressed against his ribs. He leaned down to her, while she tilted her head up…

His lips were soft, cold from the night air. His breath smelled amazing… _he _smelled amazing. Like leather and cotton and skin. His stubble scratched her, his fingers held her firmly against him. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but she barely registered it.

This guy was amazing. He didn't shove his tongue into her mouth or go weirdly still or drool or do any of those other things that ruined kisses. He just pressed kiss after kiss against her lips, until he pulled away, smiling.

"Can I walk you home?"


	6. Moon is rising, night will be here soon

"I'm facing a dilemma." Helga groaned, thanking no one in particular that she had worn the silk top. It felt amazing against her skin as Matt's hands roved over her body. His chest pressed her up against the wall, just outside the door to her dorm.

"Don't know whether to ask me up or not?"

"No idea." She admitted, feeling the muscles of his stomach through his T shirt.

"It's totally up to you." He grinned. Had she ever met a guy that smiled this much? "If you're not sure if you wanna… uh… go further, with me… then don't ask. If you're scared that I'll think you're a slut or something… I'm really not that kind of person." He leaned forward, kissed her again. "I'm not expecting sex, by the way… you can just ask me up for chaste kisses and a cuddle."

She laughed. "I only have a single bed."

"We should have gone to mine." His grin let her know that he was joking, but it was a good suggestion.

"So why didn't we?" She pressed her hips forward, grinning with satisfaction when his hands clenched at her back.

"Seemed pretty suspect… a guy you hardly know leading you back to his place in the middle of the night." His hands slid across the silk, down her hips… he leaned forward to kiss her again. "Besides…" he breathed against her skin as he pressed his forehead to hers "… this way you get to decide. You aren't left stranded in the middle of the night." He bent further down, kissed her neck.

"Come up." Helga groaned, before she even realised what she wanted.

"You sure about that?" His lips mumbled down the outside of her ear. _Jesus fucking CHRIST. _

"Yes."

His hands stayed on her as she swiped into the building, he kissed her in the elevator, held her hand as they walked down the corridor to her suite. His fingers slipped under her waistband as she unlocked her door. He closed the door with his foot and circled her waist with her arms as they stumbled into the room.

She turned to him, gasping as he lifted her off her feet. He held her to him, kissed her. The silk of her top slid up, his fingers tugged up her jacket, found skin. "Fuck I want you." He groaned.

Her feet dangling, she wriggled her hips against him. She went through a mental checklist. Legs and armpits shaved, pretty undies on, bed sheets changed recently, room not too messy. Yup, she could do this.

"Have me."

…

Arnold_ - If ANYTHING goes wrong, text me and I'll come get you, ok? Text me when you get home, too. I'm all worried for your safekeeping. Nite Pataki._

Again, she had forgotten about Arnold.

Helga_ - Safe n sound, Shortman. Only just got your text. Hope this doesn't wake you :) x_

She dropped her phone onto the dresser and leaned back into her pillows. Hot, she kicked the sheets away. Her skin was burning up, her heart still thumping. She felt flushed, heavy, satiated. She heard Matt's footsteps, opened her eyes to see him in the doorway, smiling.

His eyes wandered down her body, lingering at her chest, her waist, the apex of her thighs.

"You are a seriously beautiful woman." He crossed the small room in two strides, stood above her, naked, broad-shouldered, olive skinned, with dark tattoos down his arms.

She reached up and touched her fingertips to the muscle at his hip. "And you're a beautiful man." She smiled, stretched, yawned.

"Should I go?" He asked, looking suddenly awkward.

She shook her head. "Only if you want to." She shuffled over, rolled onto her side. "I don't want you to, though."

His arms were warm and heavy, his fingers combed through her hair and brushed her skin. She lay on him, her head on his chest, her thigh over his legs, the sheets tangled at their feet.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, running a fingertip down her neck, making her shiver.

She hummed sleepily. "I'm perfect…" she smiled "… if a little sore."

He sighed. "Sorry… I tried to be gentle."

She couldn't help but laugh. "You have nothing to apologise for." she swallowed. "It's just been a while, that's all, and you're rather… endowed."

He sighed again, pressed a kiss to her hair. He groaned, a long, wanting kind of sound. "I didn't break you?"

She smiled, sleepy. "No… but you can try again in the morning if you like." She yawned.

…

His arm lay heavy on her when she woke up, his thighs tucked up behind hers, his face buried in her hair. Her head lay on his arm.

It felt so good to wake up with a body pressed against her. It had been months since she had last lain with someone… and _that_ particular interlude had been less than satisfactory. Matt, on the other hand, was amazing.

She rolled over, struggling to shift under his arm. Oh god… he was beautiful. He had dark lashes, dark stubble, thick eyebrows. She pressed her body hard up against him, her lips against his.

"mmmmmmmmm" he mumbled, his arms tightened around her. "Morning." His voice hummed against her lips. His hands slid down to grasp her ass, pulling her hard against his…

…

…She sat up, lobbed the condom into her wastepaper basket and collapsed again, wriggling against him. "I could so go back to sleep."

He ran the flat of his palms up her thighs. "What are you doing today?"

She hummed, sleepy. "I was going to study till Arnold finishes work."

His fingers skimmed gently, up and down her spine. "How about I take you to breakfast, before you start on the books?"

"How about you join me in the shower, before you take me to breakfast?"

A shower, breakfast, a long handsy goodbye and an afternoon of studying punctuated by sweet and suggestive texts preceded a walk to Arnold's work, a ten minute wait, and a come on from a guy in his forties.

"See ya Mike!" Arnold and Helga waved to the manager as he locked up the music store where Arnold worked.

'I need a coffee." Arnold yawned as he tugged on his jacket. "It's been a long day."

"Aw… you getting old, Shortman?" Helga grinned. "Can't handle college life?"

He glowered. "Actually, I spent half the night awake, worrying that a friend of mine had been left to die in a gutter or something."

_Whoa… heavy… _Helga baulked. "Seriously? You got the serial killer vibe off Matt?"

He shrugged, sighed. "I don't know… no, I suppose not…" His eyes were on the ground, following his own feet as they trudged down the street.

"Ah for fucks sake. It's nice of you to worry about me Arnold, but I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." She put an arm around his shoulder, squeezed him briefly.

Arnold grunted, shrugged. _He needs to eat or something, grumpy bastard._

"C'mon man! I thought you'd be happy for me!" She grinned, tried to joke with him, bumping his hip with hers. "I mean… I'd be shouting you a drink if you'd gotten laid!"

He glanced at her, frowning. "You slept with him?"

She nodded, smiling. "Yeah… of course I did! Didn't you _see _him?"

"Weren't you drunk?" His face looked shocked, but also annoyed. She felt herself bristle. What the _fuck _was his problem?

"Uh, yeah, a little… but so was he. It's not like he pressured me or anything. I _wanted _to bed him."

He was gaping at her. "I really didn't think you were like that."

_You're stepping into dangerous territory, Football Head. _Helga forced herself to act calm. "Like _what_, exactly?"

At least he had the decency to look a little flustered. "Like… the kind of girl who just goes home with a guy she doesn't even know."

She swallowed, took a deep breath. "Have you never slept with a girl you only just met?"

Arnold opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He glanced away, looked back, returned his gaze to his shoes. "I have… I suppose… but they were… uh… I mean…"

"You mean that _you_ were the one getting laid, so you didn't care." He tried to protest, but she cut him off. "Look, Arnold. I'm not your girlfriend, so you really don't have a right to make me feel guilty about sleeping with someone. Matt and I are both single, we're adults, and we like each other. It really is that simple. I _am _sorry for ditching you at the party, that was pretty shitty of me… but I'm not sorry for screwing someone I chose to screw. I don't regret it, in fact, it was fucking awesome, and I plan on doing it again."

Silence.

They walked on, plodding towards campus. "I'll just get a coffee…" Arnold mumbled. Helga followed him into a little café, lounging at a table while Arnold waited for a takeaway flat white.

They stepped back out onto the pavement together, still quiet. Helga felt bad. She didn't mean to snarl at him, but she _hated _that 'good girl' bullshit. She hated it even more when it came from him. She figured he was just tired, grumpy and a little hurt that she had bailed on him… but she wasn't going to be made to feel _bad _for enjoying herself.

"I'm sorry." Arnold sighed. "You're right. I know you did nothing wrong. I'm just in a bad mood and nothing is coming out right." He sighed again, not looking at her. "We haven't been friends for very long. Good friends, I mean… I have no idea what your… uh… sexual philosophy is? I mean… when it comes to that stuff, you're still nine… in my head, I mean."

Helga laughed. "My _sexual philosophy?_ That's awesome." He glanced at her, she caught his eye and smiled. "Honestly… I am all about people doing whatever the hell they want, as long as you're not hurting anyone."

Arnold nodded. _Ah geeze, he has that reflective expression on. _

"I suppose I'm kinda jealous?" He admitted.

Helga spluttered. _What the fuck? _"What? Why?" _whoops, that came out way too dramatic._

He blushed, rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I dunno. I mean… shit this is going to sound stupid." He sighed. "I haven't had sex in ages. It's not like I haven't tried or anything…" He smiled weakly. "….and, I mean, you're my friend, the person I thought I'd be going home with at the end of the night… _not like that!" _He gasped, turning his eyes on her, terrified looking, but smiled when she just laughed. "God, seriously, _nothing_ is coming out right tonight… I mean, I thought we were kinda together in our loner-ness… and then this huge older guy who looks like he just stepped out of a Levi's commercial takes you home straight away? Just kinda made me wonder what I'm doing wrong… I got defensive I suppose, stupidly… I'm sorry."

Helga shook her head. "Honestly Arnold, I marvel at your ability to read your own emotions like that." She stepped closer, put her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You're forgiven."

He slung his arm over her shoulder. "So… you're going to keep seeing him?

She grinned despite herself. "Yeah. I think so. He's pretty amazing." She squeezed him again, suddenly realising she was being a bit of a callous cow. "You're amazing too, Shortman. Honestly." He snorted, but she pinched him, making him jump. "_You are_! Hells… you're pretty much perfect."

He grumbled, obviously pleased, but being obstinate. "Sure… that's why I have that really awesome girlfriend."

She shuddered theatrically. "Don't be that guy. There is nothing quite as unattractive as a person who wants a partner purely for the sake of having a partner. You should want a girlfriend because you met someone awesome and want to be with them."

_Jesus Christ… I am _so_ glad I don't have to look into his eyes while I say this crap. _Despite herself, she felt like slapping him sometimes. She had been _right there _for years… the girl who would have done _anything _for him. She knew now that it would never happen, and she was OK with that. But it still didn't stop her from wondering why he was such a fucking moron sometimes.

"You sound like Doctor Phil or some shit."

"Nah… I just put less stock into _relationships _than most people our age."

"Why is that?"

She smiled. "Now who sounds like Doctor Phil?"

"Me. Honestly Helga, why are you so… blasé about love and stuff?"

She laughed. "Really? Isn't it obvious? My family _suuuucks. _Bob and Miriam loathe each other, for good reason, Olga gets sucked in continually by losers who just use her, and I, despite being an exemplary student and generally perfect person…" she grinned "… have always been treated like I'm a leper. Most people suck. I have no great desire to tie myself to someone who isn't extraordinary."

He was quiet for a while, digesting what she had told him. "So… you've never liked _anyone_? Like… really liked anyone?"

"I dunno Arnold… I've liked people enough to sleep with them for an extended period of time, but no one I've ever _really _liked has liked me back. Not like _that."_

"So you just resign yourself to shagging guys you have no invested interest in?"

She sighed, annoyed. He wasn't trying to sound like a prick, he was just curious… but she couldn't help but get defensive. "I _like _sex. Why should I deny myself something I enjoy, just because the guy I might want a relationship with doesn't want me? I'm honest with the guys I hook up with, I don't lead them on or anything." She shrugged, thankful at least that they were walking, not sitting in some room staring at each other.

He just nodded. "Sure… I get that. It's just not really how most girls talk."

"I'm not most girls."

He laughed. "That's for sure."


	7. In the morning I'll be with you

**Hello peoples! **

**So... I wanted to say thanks for the R&R's... they are all very appreciated, and so kind!**

**Not being from the USA, I am -trying- to get the semesters and everything lined up properly. The whole idea of Christmas in winter is very strange... if I mess anything up, lemme know?**

**Anyways. Thanks for reading, and being so cool.**

* * *

Arnold – _Yo. You home? I have news!_

Helga yawned. Her cell phone told her it was 9.16pm, later than Arnold normally bothered to bother her. He must actually have something exciting to tell her.

Helga – _Come on over Arnold. Be warned though, I'm probably not the best company at the moment._

… "You OK?" His face was concerned as she opened the door.

She frowned. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your text… sounded like you're down."

She chuckled, throwing herself back down on the sofa. "Don't mind me, Shorty… what's your news?"

He looked sideways at her, but continued, plonking himself down next to her. "You know how we threw around the idea of getting a flat next semester?"

"Yeah?" She did… but was surprised he was bringing it up. It was just a passing comment made over the Christmas break, which had been months ago now. How did he _remember _all that stuff?"

"Well, the TA for my Antiquity paper, Taylor, is leaving his place over the summer… and it sounds _perfect._"

She kept her eyes on him. He looked so _enthusiastic_, should couldn't help but crack a weak smile. "Describe perfect." She challenged.

"Two bedrooms, bathroom, decent kitchen, big garden, lounge, furnished, pretty close to campus… _cheap_…" He was beaming now.

"What's the catch?" _Sounds too good to be true… _ "And what do you mean by cheap?"

He nodded. "Its not so much a catch… more just an unusual arrangement."

"Well _that _sounds promising." She rolled her eyes, but he ignored her.

"It's the bottom half of a converted house. It was done up for the owner's kids, but they've left home, and now she's alone. Husband left her."

"Huh." OK… that kinda made sense so far… kind of. "Go on."

"Well, she's by herself, but she's got money. The husband was in banking or finance or something, and she took him to the cleaners when she caught him cheating… so she doesn't need the money from rent or anything."

"OK…" Helga gestured for him to continue.

"She feels that being a woman living alone is a security issue, and she needs help sometimes with house stuff. Like, changing light bulbs and helping in the garden. Nothing major… Taylor said he's only been asked to do things a couple of times, when she'd hurt her back, or was sick or something."

"And how cheap is it?"

"Just covering our share of the bills, and paying to repair anything we might break."

Helga blinked. "That's _it?!" _She stared… that was an absolutely unbelievably good deal. "And she doesn't have psychotic breaks, or bodies under the floorboards, or a Chihuahua or anything?"

"She has two cats, that we feed if she goes away."

"Two cats… I think I can handle that…" She was still staring. "I dunno Shorty… it sounds way too good to be true."

He shrugged. "We can go meet her this weekend, if you want. She likes to have everything sorted early. Oh, and we find someone to take over from us when we move out. Taylor said he chose me because I'm quiet and stuff, which is what she likes. No parties or anything."

"Oh, great, so you have to creep around on tip-toes?"

He laughed. "Nah, she's fine with people… she just doesn't want massive piss-ups. Taylor plays guitar, electric, and she's never complained."

She chewed at her bottom lip. It _did _sound perfect… better than perfect… "I suppose we should head over this weekend then?"

He grinned…

… "Holy shit Shorty… this place is awesome!" Helga gripped at Arnold's arm.

He laughed. "I knew you'd like it."

"So, are you two a couple?" The woman who owned the place stepped out to join them on the low deck that flanked the kitchen, and stepped out onto the lawn.

Helga dropped Arnold's arm like she'd been burned. "Us? Nah."

"We grew up together." Arnold explained. "We've known each other since we were three."

She smiled, holding out two bottles of coke. "That's very sweet! And that was in New York?"

They nodded, taking the bottles, and following her lead when she sat down on one of the wooden patio chairs. "Hillwood." Helga volunteered. She was trying to remember the woman's name. Was it Tania or Diana… how could she not remember?

She had long brown hair, grey at the temples, twisted up on top of her head into a loose bun. Helga guessed she was around fifty, but looked good for her age. She had a quiet, determined voice, which Helga liked.

"And what do you two do for fun? Any hobbies?"

She was an odd lady, a little formal, a little stiff… but after they sat talking books for a half hour, she seemed to loosen up a bit.

"Personally, I never understood the hype." She shook her head. "I know it was somehow supposed to _speak _to women of my age, but I just found her completely repulsive." She said of _Eat, Pray, Love, _before the phone started to ring. She checked the gold watch on her slim wrist. "That will be my daughter. If you'll excuse me?" She swept back inside.

"So…" Arnold sat back, taking a gulp from his coke. "You keen?"

"Yes, Shorty… you did good." She smiled. "When can we move in?"

He laughed. "Well, assuming Dyna wants us to…"

"_Dyna_! That's right!"

Arnold chuckled. "Then at the end of the Summer holidays."

Helga frowned. "That sucks. What am I supposed to do for the rest of the holidays?"

"Aren't you going home?" He sounded incredulous, like going back home was a given.

"Not if I can help it." She folded her arms. "Christmas was painful enough." Six hours sitting in a plane to spend a week ignored by her parents, and fussed over by Olga. She didn't know why she thought anything would have been different. Even now, months later, it made her angry.

"Oh…" He thought for a second. "You can always come stay at the Sunset Arms."

"Yeah… sure…" She scoffed. She must have scoffed a bit too hard, because he fixed her with an oddly severe stare.

"Hey, Helga… what's up? You've been in a weird mood for days now…"

_Aw man. _He had that _concerned _look on his face. She didn't really know what to say. How can you complain because things are going _too _well?

"Helga?"

She sighed. "I dunno… it's just… Matt's getting all serious on me, and I don't know what to do."

He put his coke bottle down, leaning forward to watch her face. "Serious?"

"Yeah. Like, hinting that I should move in with him, and talking about going away together over the holidays." She shrugged.

"And you… don't want that?"

She shook her head.

"Have you told him that?"

She nodded.

"Is it… is it just him? Or do you not want a serious relationship in general?"

She shrugged. "A bit of both, maybe? I mean… I _don't _want anything serious, I'm studying, I'm only eighteen… I don't need it. But on the other hand, if I fell for someone, I wouldn't just dismiss it…" She trailed off.

"Ah… so… you think maybe he likes you more than you like him?"

_Oh god. _She felt so guilty. She didn't want to lead the guy on… she _wasn't _leading him on… she had told him what she wanted. She shook her head. "He's going to _hate _it if I move in with you." She whispered.

Arnold blinked. "Why? Does he hate me or something?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I think he'll just get hurt if I move out of the dorm and it's not with him."

He frowned. "You know you're allowed to set your own pace, right? How old is he again?"

"Twenty two."

"So… he's not _old _or anything, but he is a little older, maybe a bit more of an appropriate age to move in with a girlfriend. You're allowed to say no though, he shouldn't pressure you."

"Oh _Arnold!" _She bared her teeth. "He wouldn't pressure me! I just don't want to hurt his feelings!"

"Oh." He paused for a second. "How about you tell him you're staying at mine for the summer holidays… then see how he responds to that before you tell him that we're looking for a flat?"

She kept silent. It was a logical idea, she knew… make sure she wasn't just getting paranoid over nothing…

"You'll have to talk to him about it, you know." Arnold mumbled, reaching over to pat her shoulder.

"I know." She bit her bottom lip. "I hate talking about stuff." Her admission was soft.

"I know."

…

_I'm curious, whose idea was this anyhow?_

_Oh, it was his._

_Hers._

_It was yours._

_It was mine?_

_Yes._

_You're right. She paid me two hundred thousand dollars to…_

**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.**

"_Hey, Helga! You home?"_

Helga groaned, leaning forward to press pause on her laptop. The door handle was rattling as she untangled her feet from her blanket and slouched over to open it.

"Hey, Arnold." She yawned.

"Helga? Jesus! Where the fuck have you been?" He was frowning, a mix of anger and concern on his face.

"Here." She shrugged. "I suppose you wanna come in. Fair warning, I'm hardly dressed for visitors."

She let the door go, turned around and slumped back to the couch, pulled her blanket back over her legs and pressed play on her laptop.

He crept in, his eyes widening in the dim light. "What happened?" He asked, dropping himself down next to her, looking at her warily, like she was an animal that might turn on him. For some reason, that thought made her chuckle, imagining herself as some kind of forest child, raised by wolves.

"Helga?" His hand was on her arm. Oh, yeah, he'd asked her a question. Man, she was tired.

"Matt dumped me." She shrugged, turning back to her movie.

"And now you're sitting in the dark, watching… a _romantic comedy_?" He seemed to be at a loss. "Fuck, Helga… what happened? Did he do something to you?"

She sighed, pointedly, and reached over to pause the movie again. "No, Arnold, Matt didn't do anything _to _me. He's not the bastard you seem to think he is. I'm just sad, OK? I just didn't feel like seeing anyone. I _just_ wanted to spend a couple of days by myself, being sad. Is that wrong?"

She watched his face. He looked so… deflated. She knew she should feel something, she knew she _sounded _like she felt something, but in truth, this was all kinda hazy. She had cried, for hours, after Matt had left… but that had been two days ago, and now she was so… tired… she didn't really feel anything except sleepy. She just couldn't seem to _sleep._

"Do you want me to go?" He asked gently.

She shrugged. "You're here now. I can fill you in on the movie if you want." She felt herself grin at the doubt on his face. "It's not _that_ bad. It's like… _Knocked up_ meets _Bridesmaids."_

He shrugged. "Sure." He hesitated for a second. "You hungry?"

She shrugged again, leaning over to get the movie playing again. "Not really." She waited for a second, to make sure he was finished, then started up the film.

"That woman there, and that guy, are best friends. They decided to have a baby, so that when they found their _one_, they wouldn't spoil the romance by having a kid. Best of both worlds kinda deal. But, predictably, things are getting complicated."

"Predictably." Arnold parroted, slouching down into the cushions. "C'mere." He grabbed her arm, tugged her over to snuggle up under his arm. "You had me worried, you know."

She yawned. "I know. Sorry."


	8. Cause I got no mind to go or to stay

Helga did end up spending the summer at the Sunset Arms, at Arnold's insistence. Phil and Gertie had opened their house to her, and with almost all _the gang _back for the summer, the long summer days didn't feel as stretched out and empty as they used to. As all good holidays go, though, it was over too soon, and August saw them heading back to California and setting up house in Dyna's little flat.

"_So you're all set up?"_ Phoebe pushed her glasses back on her nose, staring out at Helga from her laptop screen.

"Yep. Unpacked the last of it just now. Not that there was much to unpack, most of the _house_ type stuff is included." Helga grinned. "Hey, I could give you a virtual tour!"

Phoebe tittered. "_Sure_."

"Alright, so…" Helga pulled the charger from her computer and hefted it off her bed. "This is my room." She panned the computer around. "There's Ronnie, resplendent in his tight white pants."

"_Hi Ronnie!"_ Helga couldn't see, but she was sure Phoebe was waving at the massive Ronnie Matthews poster on her wall, a joke gift from Arnold.

"OK, here's the hall. Nothing exciting really." She made her way through the house, opening doors as she moved down the hallway. "Here's the closet. Complete with linen. Here's a power outlet. This is a little framed photograph of a beach. Nice." Helga put on a real-estate-agent voice. "You'll see here, to your right, the toilet. This room features a frosted glass window and even has a lock on the door! The next room is the bathroom, which includes a full-sized bathtub and chromed showerhead…" and so on, making her way through the kitchen and lounge, to the other end of the little apartment.

She rapped on Arnold's door, balancing her laptop on one palm.

"_Come in_."

"This is The Shortman's room. The larger of the two rooms, it boasts direct access to the outdoors, and a massive black spider in the window." She put the laptop in Arnold's face. "Whatcha readin, Shorty?"

"Your copy of The Painted Bird." He smiled up into the camera. "Hey Pheebes. You get to campus OK?"

"_Yes thank you Arnold. I heard your trip back was eventful."_

He chuckled. "If you call waiting around in the airport for six hours eventful, sure."

Helga groaned. "Holy crap that was boring. Scootch over Shorty." She put the computer at the end of the bed, crawling up to sit next to him.

"So bossy!" Arnold admonished, closing his book and shaking his head. "See what I have to live with, Phoebe?"

Phoebe, the traitor, giggled. "_She can be a handful, I agree._"

"Pfft." Helga rolled her eyes. "Screw you guys, I'm _delightful_."

"You're an _angel_." Arnold laughed.

"You're fucking right I am." She raised her chin, grinning. "But enough about me, Pheebes, how's your new place?"

"_I can't give you a tour, sorry, but it's nice. The landlord had the carpets cleaned during the holidays, so it smells fantastic at the moment. And Mum bought me new sheets."_

"Oh _man _I love new sheets." Helga grinned. "Did you shave your legs and go to bed naked?"

"_Helga!_" Phoebe gasped, her cheeks getting pink.

Helga shrugged. "Hey, getting between clean sheets with smooth legs is one of life's greatest joys, don't be ashamed Pheebes, own it, _own your happiness_."

Arnold chuckled. "Gerald stayed with her last night, remember? Those sheets are probably already in the wash."

"_Arnold! You too?"_ Phoebe looked aghast, but her mouth was twitching up.

"Sorry Pheebes, what can I say. Eleanor here's a bad influence." Helga shook her head at that. Arnold had taken a shine to Gertie's mistaken nickname over the holidays. Worse, it had caught on to the others, too.

"_Eleanor, stop corrupting Arnold._"

"Too late." She yawned, stretched. "I may even steal his bed. I'm too tired to move."

"You know, I wouldn't put it past you." He sighed.

"_Neither would I._" Phoebe agreed.

"Man, you two are bagging on me today." Helga groaned, sliding further down on the sheets. "You could start a hate club."

"Or a support group." Arnold mused. "For Pataki survivors."

"_Who else would join?_" Pheebes asked.

"I dunno. Brainy?"

Helga snorted. "Whatever. Brainy loves me."

"We all do, which is how we know we need help." Arnold said glumly, shaking his head in mock despair. "My name is Arnold Shortman, and I'm a Helga-holic."

She burst into laughter at that. "A _Helga-holic?_ Classic!"

"This is serious, Eleanor." Arnold chided. "It's a _disease_."

"Hey, now." Helga frowned. "I'm not _contagious_." She sniffed.

"Nawwww." He grinned, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "You know we don't mean it."

"_Never." _Phoebe piped up. "_I miss you already. Summer was perfect._"

Helga sighed, closing her eyes. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Totally."

They all sat in silence for a moment, before Phoebe cleared her throat. "_I should probably get going. It's getting late here, and I start classes in the morning_."

"Alrighty Pheebes. Lemme know how things go."

"_Of course. I'll Skype you in a day or two._ _Goodnight Helga, Arnold."_

"Night Pheebes."

"Seeya Phoebe."

And the screen went blank. Helga sighed again, settling down into Arnold's duvet. "I'm pooped." She yawned, turning to smush her face against the cotton.

"Yeah, me too. You hungry?"

"Starving."

She heard him grunt, felt the mattress move beneath her as he struggled to his feet. "I'll go get us something. You OK with pizza?"

"Always." She murmured, her eyes still closed. "There's cash in my wallet."

"OK. Be back in a minute. Find us something to watch."

"OK."

…

"Hey, Helga… wake up…"

She cracked open her eyes, grumbling. "Hmmph. What is it?"

He was grinning. "You want dinner, or should I just let you go back to sleep?"

"Mmmm, food." She pushed herself up. "Sorry man, I didn't mean to nod off."

He dropped the pizza box on the bed in front of her. "That's cool. Wanna coke?"

"Yes please. Wanna watch Finn n' Jake?"

"Sure. I'll just go get us glasses."

They settled down, feet propped up in front of them, Helga's laptop between them,

"Our first dinner in our new house." She mused, scrutinising her pizza. The mushroom-to-olive ratio was off, they'd have to find a better pizza place.

He raised his glass. "To our new home, may I not incur your wrath and end up buried under Dyna's tomatoes."

"Huh. Nah, I wouldn't kill you… I'd just chain you up in the basement."

"There is no basement."

"I'd make you dig one, then chain you up in it."

"Sounds kinky."

"_Bring out the gimp_."

He chuckled. "Man, I could so watch Pulp Fiction right now… pity it's a bit too late." He yawned, stretching his long arms over his head.

"Tomorrow?"

"It's a date."

They went back to staring at the screen, getting through another two episodes before Helga dropped her last pizza crust into the box and settled back into his pillows. "Am I really that bad?" She muttered, her gaze square on the screen.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

She shrugged, already regretting her question. "Like, how you guys always joke that I'm some tyrannical kraken…" she could feel her cheeks growing warm. "Am I really that… unstable?"

"Aw Pacman!" He chuckled, leaning over to nudge her arm with his. "Of course you're not! Listen…" He slid the pizza box out from between them and shifted to lay his arm over her shoulder, tugging her into his chest. "You've got a temper, sure, but you're not some kind of time bomb. I mean… I wouldn't have asked you to move in with me if you were like that, right?"

"I suppose so." She admitted sullenly.

"And remember who's making fun of you… it's me and Phoebe, and the rest of _the gang_. We've all known you forever, including when you were an angry little shit that used to smash Brainy in the face for no reason."

"There was a _reason!_" She turned to glare at him, but he just laughed and kept going.

"We still call Harold fat, even though he's not. Rhonda's still the spoiled little rich girl, although she's not… OK, she is a little, but not like how she used to be. Curly hasn't had a melt-down in years, and Sid isn't afraid of vampires anymore, but we still give them shit for it, right?"

"You _are_ still a goody-two-shoes." She raised her chin with her defiant little quip.

"Probably, but I'm sure that will change, considering your terrible influence." He tugged at her again, tucking her against him. "I'm really looking forward to living here with you." He said simply. "It's gonna be fun."

"I'm not doing your laundry for you."

"We'll see…"

"You're a dork, Shorty."

"And you're a kraken."

She snorted. "I'm not going to live that one down, am I?"

"Eleanor the Kraken, it has a good ring to it."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

They sat for a second, still watching the screen, smiles playing on their lips as they waited for the other's next move.

Arnold lasted for about fifteen seconds before he broke into giggles.

"Alright Dickhead, what's so funny." Helga sighed, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I just thought we should change what we watch tomorrow night."

"To what, Clash of the Titans?"

"Nah… How to Train your Kraken…"

"What the… that's not even _funny!_"

"Yeah it is! It's kinda like The Taming of the Shrew."

"Did you just call me a _shrew?!_"


	9. Sweet you rock and sweet you roll

"_Monday Monday_…" Helga murmured along to the radio. "_So good to me_."

She swept about the kitchen, dumping a few empties into the recycling bin under the sink and wiping off the counter while waiting for the kettle to boil. She considered making herself toast, but the thought of having food so early made her stomach roil.

Her lack of breakfast was a sore point with Arnold, who constantly repeated the _most important meal of the day _mantra to her in the mornings…

… speaking of which, where _was _Arnold?

He was normally up well before her, busy being productive while she snored into her pillow, but she hadn't heard a peep from him this morning. The guys had still been there when Helga had gone to bed the night before, playing Xbox in the lounge, so it was possible Arnold was sleeping in after a big night… but it wasn't like him to stay up too late on a _school night._

She made her way down to his room.

"Hey, Arnold?" She called softly, tapping gently at his door in case he was sick or something.

"_Yeah… come in." _

_Whoop, that doesn't sound good. _It didn't look that great, either. He was lying in the dark, the curtains drawn, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

"Hey… uh…" Helga faltered. This scene was so… alien… she wasn't quite sure what to say. "You OK?"

He shrugged, his eyes still gazing into nothing. "Sure."

She shuffled. "Um… you want a coffee or something?"

He paused for a second, then shrugged again. "No thanks."

She frowned. There was definitely something wrong. His voice was soft, even for him. He sounded distracted. "You sick or something?" She asked, confusion making her voice sharper than she meant it to. She grimaced.

He sighed, heavily, finally turning his head to look at her. "No… I'm not sick… I'm… I'm just taking a day off. I just wanna be, uh, by myself today."

She stared, a strange feeling of déjà vu tickling the back of her memory. "What's wrong?" She choked eventually, distracted by the thought that she should already _know _what was up.

But he just moved to stare back up at the ceiling. "Nothing. I'm OK Eleanor."

"O-OK." She shut the door behind her on her way out, totally confused. She had the oddest feeling in her stomach.

_He's probably just having an _off _day. _She tried to rationalise Arnold's highly out-of-character behaviour. _She _had bad days all the time, when she just felt like punching things. She often took to bed with a book and shut out the world… it was therapeutic, it was nothing to worry about…

… but _Arnold_ doing it? It worried her.

She got ready slowly, distracted. By the time she tugged on her chucks and made her way out the door, she was already ten minutes late. She tried to hurry, but she couldn't shake the niggling at the back of her mind. She scuffed her feet through fallen autumn leaves as she puzzled.

She'd known Arnold her whole life, and she'd only seen him down like that a handful of times, usually after being dumped by some girl. There was the time Lila Sawyer had told him she didn't _like him _like him when they were nine. There was also the time in 8th grade when Jenny Baker had broken up with him on the bus in front of everyone. And once Helga had stumbled out of a movie at 11pm to find him sitting alone in the foyer looking miserable after Katie Jacobsen had broken it off so she didn't have to sit through a Star Wars marathon…

She shook her head… for a great guy, he had a pretty lame track record when it came to the ladies.

But then, he'd also looked like he was about to cry that time Bob had called him an orphan boy at Parents…

"That's it!"

She smacked herself on the forehead, amazed she'd been so stupid. She turned on her heel and started back towards the house, trotting as fast as she could without actually running.

Of _course _it was his parents, she remembered now. It was early October when his folks had flown off on that last voyage. She cringed to think about it, poor Arnold, not _knowing _what happened, left to wonder if they were alive or dead…

She was home in minutes, dumping her bag on the floor as she hurriedly shut the door behind her. She slowed down before she got to Arnold's room, padding quietly down the hallway before knocking. "Football Head?"

"_Yeah?" _His forehead creased in a frown as he watched her creep into the room. "Is everything OK?"

She shook her head.

His eyes widened, he struggled up to lean on his elbows, concern written across his face. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She tiptoed up and sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. "Nothing… just feel like having a day off."

He blinked, staring up at her for what seemed like minutes before he slumped back onto the bed, a picture of glum resignation. "Suit yourself."

She flicked her shoes off, pulling her knees up to curl up on top of Arnold's covers, facing him. She watched him inhale, his ribs showing through his sheet as he held his breath. Eventually he sighed. "You know, don't you?"

_Ouch. _"Oh Shorty." She shuffled up to him, laying her arm over his chest as she watched him gaze blankly upwards.

He let his breath out in a huff, an irritated kind of noise. "C'mere." He growled. He yanked at his sheets, tugging them out from underneath her, moving her around until she was tucked up against him, her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. "Now shush."

So she shushed…

Light seeped into through the curtains as the morning wore on outside. They listened to Dyna's cats meowing, and footsteps echoing from upstairs as their landlord went about her day. Helga yawned, vaguely wondering what she would miss in class, but not really caring. She snuggled closer, conscious of Arnold's state of near-nakedness, but not really caring about that, either.

He smelled good, decidedly masculine, like skin and sweat and cotton. She was still sometimes surprised at how he'd grown up… some part of her still saw him as a nine year old kid, with bandy little sticks for legs and white, almost translucent skin. Now he had a smattering of chest hair and stubble on his chin.

"What happened with you and Matt?" He asked suddenly, jerking her from her train of thought.

She must have been drifting off, her eyelids heavy as she tried to open them. She grumbled, drowsily. "He dumped me." _What a weird thing to bring up. _"Why?"

She felt him shrug. "I dunno… you never told me what happened, like… _why_ he broke up with you." He brushed the backs of his fingers down her arm. "I figure it's a fair question… what with you invading my scheduled day of mourning and all."

She felt herself smile at that, her eyes were closed again, her cheek pressed up against his skin. _This is nice_. It was comfy, warm. She was so close to falling asleep, despite her jeans button pressing uncomfortably into her stomach. "He broke out the _L word_… I didn't say it back… sadness ensued." She said simply.

"Oh… so it wasn't because you spent the holidays with me then?"

She shrugged, not really wanting to have this conversation, but putting up with it anyways… anything to distract him from his parents, she supposed. "Not really… I mean, that's what brought it up…" She grimaced, she still felt bad about the whole thing. "He tried to be understanding… but he wanted to know if, um, _we _were going anywhere… and I just couldn't see myself… uh… I dunno…"

She sighed, heavily, screwing her eyes shut. "He said he… loved me… and asked how I felt. I had to tell him that I couldn't see it happening… it really sucked." She finished blandly.

"Ah Pacman, I'm sorry." He curled his fingers around the bottom of her ribs, squeezing her in commiseration.

_Hmmmm, warm. _She dreamily wondered how his long fingers would feel against her skin, stroking upwards to cup… _Whoa_. She tensed her thighs as her body reacted to his touch. _That's not good_. Keeping her eyes closed, she forced herself to relax. _It's been way too long since I've been with someone, that's all_. She rationalised to herself, trying to slow her hitched pulse.

She fought the instinct to push away, to lash out like how she always did when she freaked herself out. _You're just sex deprived. _She scowled. _Calm down… Arnold has no idea that you were just considering… _she cut herself short. _No need to think about that. _

She scrambled around in her head for someone to distract herself with. "You remember when we met in Mighty Pete that time?"

"Hmmmm." He mumbled. "How could I forget?"

"Do you still have my sweatshirt?"

He chuckled. "I do, actually… I've even worn it once or twice."

"Why were you there?" She rushed. "You didn't even have a jacket."

He squeezed her again, making her cringe, before he sighed. "I just had a bad day, Grandma was being particularly crazy…" He stilled for a second. "I know I don't really have any right to complain… my grandparents are so good to me… but sometimes I just… I just had to get out of that house, you know?" He chuckled again. "I felt like such a tool when you left."

"Sorry." She murmured.

"I know that I've had it pretty good… I've been fed and clothed and everything… and they did their best… but I just miss my parents sometimes… and I worry about them." His voice was hushed, distant.

"You think maybe they're still…" Helga trailed off, all thoughts of desire thankfully forgotten.

"Alive? I dunno… I _hope_ so. But then, they were legitimate explorers. They'd have returned by now if they were. I suppose their plane went down, or they were injured or something." He shrugged. "I just get… get scared that they suffered." She felt him tense up, the muscles in his arm flexing against her back.

She shuddered. Crashing in the Central American jungle. There were a million different ways to die… What an awful thought… what a horrible fear to harbour… "Arnold…" she started, her heart cramping with sympathy.

"Don't… please…" He sighed, his voice weirdly choked. His arm tightened around her, pulling her harder against him.

So she shushed again. _Good going, Pataki_. She berated herself. _So much for distracting him from his parents… now he's probably imagining them in all sorts of horrific circumstances._ She sighed, miserable.

"Ah fuck." He grumbled. "Get up."

She started. What the hell? "Uh…"

He pulled his arm from under her head, pushed himself upright. "You make it really hard to mope, you know." He shook his head. "We're getting up."

OK, this was a sudden, but not necessarily bad turn of events. "Wait, we aren't going to class, are we?"

He laughed, turning away from her to put his feet on the floor and stand up. "No…" The sheet fell away to expose him, naked except for his boxer shorts, the fine hair at the small of his back making his skin look soft, the muscles at his sides shifting under his skin as he moved…

_Man, he's hot_. Her traitorous brain crooned at her before she could silence it.

Traitor Brain wasn't wrong, though. _Dammit, Arnold, why do you have to be so sexy, just when I'm all sex deprived? _She sighed. Although, by that logic, she was probably only finding him sexy _because _she was so horny. Yeah, that was it… crisis averted.

She still must have just been staring like an idiot at his long legs and wiry shoulders though, because he laughed at her again, shaking his head. "… We're going to make bacon pancakes and watch Freaks and Geeks from start to finish."

"Bacon pancakes!" Helga crowed, forcing herself to at least _try _and act like she wasn't a sex-crazed lunatic. "Makin' bacon pancakes!"

He grinned. "Thought you'd like that…" He pulled a pair of trackpants on over his boxers as she kicked her way out of his sheets.

"Hey Shorty?" She asked, bending over to pick up her shoes. "Why's it hard to mope round me?"

He shrugged, "Dunno…" before he flicked a sock at her. "Maybe you make me happy."


	10. I'm a ghost and I don't think if I know

She must have made him happy, she supposed. They certainly got along well enough. The year flew past, and more often than not, they were together. Dan and Brent, Arnold's old roommates were always over, and they regularly had dinner with Dyna (who was a bit of a history buff, so always had something new for Arnold to read about), but they rarely did stuff apart.

They hardly ever fought, either… surprisingly. Sure, they snarked at each other sometimes, and there were raised voices, but _real _anger never really raised it's ugly head.

October 5th was the last day she had _those _feelings, too… to any real degree, anyways. Just before she got her period she was always prone to more, uh, _carnal_ urges. But she was used to it by now, and barely paid them any attention, just shut herself in her room with her music up and her favourite vibrator between her legs.

They went back to Hillwood for Christmas (he got her a vintage box set of the _Gormenghast_ trilogy, and she got him a book of Winston Churchill's letters), and spent New Years Eve at a party on campus, vehemently defending _Game of Thrones_ from the attacks of a militant feminist.

So, basically, any doubts she may have had about moving in with the Shortman were unfounded… she was doing _well, _both socially and academically_. _She had an A average, had been accepted into a limited-place paper she'd been dying to do, and had nothing but good feedback on her work. She was doing well enough that she put the study on hold for a weekend to drive down to some beach with the guys during spring break…

"Oh, Helga, you're really sunburned." Arnold put a finger under the neck of her T-shirt and tugged up to check her neck.

Squealing, she jerked back. "Careful, Football Head!" She laughed, shaking her head. "I know I'm burnt, I can _feel _it." She dropped her voice to a whisper, not wanting to give Dan any more ammunition to be lewd with. "It already hurts so bad I had to take off my bikini top."

He grinned, leaning forward to murmur into her ear. "You don't need to whisper, I'm pretty sure Dan's already noticed."

She blinked. "Oh." She could feel herself blushing. Had they _all _noticed? Was it that noticeable? Oh god, she hoped they hadn't been watching her _jiggle _or anything… she glanced down, suddenly paranoid that her nipples were visible through her t-shirt.

Arnold chuckled, shaking his head and moving to look out the window. Helga wriggled. It was _really _uncomfortable, jammed in the back of Brent's car like this, sandwiched between Arnold and Dan, her hips hurting and her leg threatening to go to sleep. She shifted again.

Brent, Arnold's other roommate from the year before, grinned, the reflection of his wide smile visible on the windscreen as he peered over the steering wheel. "Toni's asleep, listen."

His girlfriend, the gloriously _loud _Toni was murmuring in her sleep, a continuous babble of high-pitched nonsense. They laughed softly, not wanting to wake her up.

"Man, I could so follow her example, if you boys weren't so damn uncomfy." Helga raised her knees, her thigh pressing hard into Arnold's, turned as she was away from Dan. "There's _no _room back here, with you two sitting all …akimbo like that." She glared at them, their legs splayed out in that way guys have, making sure their nuts weren't smothered. She squeezed her eyes shut at the mental image. _Gross_.

Dan laughed. "Come sit on my lap, sweetheart." He waggled his eyebrows. "You'll be comfy then."

"Push off, dweeb." Helga grimaced, laughing. It was a weird kind of relationship she had with Dan. Or, it was weird in that it was so familiar. She'd alwayshad some guy puppy-dogging after her. It had been Brainy in school, but now it was this skinny little brunette guy, the Nickleback fan. Pity he was more like Curly in personality than Brainy… he did sometimes cross the line from vaguely annoying to actively creepy. But he _was _trying… he was just a little socially inept.

"You're doing it again, Dan." Arnold slid further down in the seat, his eyes closed.

"I… oh… sorry Helga." Dan sighed.

"Apology accepted Danny Boy." She leaned over a bit, curling herself into Arnold's side when he raised his arm to lay it over her shoulder, doing her best to ignore how much it hurt her burned skin.

"You _can _sit on my lap, if you think it'll be more comfortable." Arnold said quietly. "Or we could swap places. I don't mind."

"Aw Shorty." Helga smiled. "You sure it'd be OK?" She'd sat in the middle on the long drive _to _the beach, doing it on the way back seemed to be more than her legs could take.

"Sure. Here." He unbuckled his seatbelt. "Don't crash, Brent. Helga n' I are shifting."

"I'll try not to." Brent grinned again. He was a nice guy, Brent. Innocuous, the kind of person Helga normally wouldn't even notice… but having been _forced _to befriend him, she enjoyed his quiet company.

They shuffled around in the back seat, twisting and swearing as Helga slid over Arnold's lap. His hand grasped her ribs, steadying her, laughing when she slipped and ended up half in the foot well. Eventually she got herself sorted though.

"Better?" Arnold asked, spreading his legs again.

"Much, thanks Shorty." Helga yawned, turning to nestle into the blanket they'd jammed between her and the door so that she could curl up, her legs over Arnold's thighs.

It was hot, with five sweaty bodies in the car, the balmy evening air coming in through the open windows not doing much to cool her down… _probably not helped by the sunburn. _She thought as she drifted off to sleep…

…"Helga… _Helga…_ See, I told you she's still asleep."

Helga barely registered Dan's voice. _They're talking about me?_ She had just decided not to care and to go back to sleep when Arnold's hand tightened slightly where it lay on her thigh.

"I don't care. Shut up." He growled. His voice was low, making Helga's ears prick up. _What was going on?_

"I kinda have to agree with him, Arnold." That was _Brent_. Helga forced her eyes to stay shut, her breathing to stay even. "I mean… you've had a helluva dry spell. You don't think maybe it'd be worth a shot?"

"Jesus Christ." Arnold sounded fed up. "Why do you two never _drop _this? No, I don't think it'd be _worth a shot._ I've known her my entire life, I'm not about to drop my pants and ask her to climb on up, she'd rip my head off!"

_Climb up? _Oh dear… they'd been talking about… that?

"So why won't you let _me _try?"

_Yuck_. Dan sounded downright whiney. She bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay quiet… this was _interesting_… even if she did feel a little guilty for eavesdropping.

"Dude, I don't stop you from trying, you try all the time!" Arnold's voice was incredulous. "She doesn't like you like that man, give it up." He sighed. "Seriously, she might wake up at any second. Just listen to me when I say that I'm not interested in her _like that _and drop it, OK?"

There was a sullen silence. She didn't get why… it wasn't anything new to _her_. She and Arnold weren't like that. It _should _have been clear to them by now.

"_OK?_" Arnold growled.

"Fine, OK." Brent laughed.

"I dunno." Dan sounded like he was thinking, which was never a good sign. "How can you stand it? I'd have the biggest boner if she was lying on _me _like that."

Arnold just snorted in disgust at that, a response that Helga whole-heartedly approved of. But then he sighed. "She _is _hot, huh?"

"Duh." Dan grunted.

"I kinda forget sometimes… I've known her so long you know?"

She didn't like where this was going. She tried to stop herself from tensing, from opening her eyes to see where Arnold's gaze was.

"Man… her bikini…" Dan's voice was reverent, the silence that followed trailed on _far _to long for Helga's liking.

Thankfully, Toni chose then to grumble awake. "Whose bikini?" She yawned, her high voice all bleary with sleep.

"Helga's." Dan stated simply, making Toni laugh.

"Yeah yeah, we all saw Helga's hotness. You need to stop barking up that tree, man. It's _never going to happen._"

Ah, good old Toni. Trust her to inject some normality into that increasingly weird conversation. She relaxed as the conversation returned to safer, saner banter. Was this a suitable time to pretend to wake up? She was wide awake now, with no chance of nodding back off. She stifled a sigh…

… but she was saved by the bell. Arnold's pant leg started to vibrate, the _Star Spangled Banner _blaring tinnily from his cell phone… the ring tone he used for the Sunset Arms.

She opened her eyes, blinking as Arnold twisted to dig his phone from his pocket, his fingers edging under her thigh, tickling. "Sorry." He mouthed before answering the call.

"Hey guys, pipe down? I'm on the phone here." He called to the rest of the car, "Hello? Grandma?" He grinned into his mobile.

…

"Uh… Grandma? Whats…."

…

Helga watched, her stomach dropping, as Arnold's face turned white. "Brent." She shuffled up, her back against the door. "Stop the car."

"But we're… uh…" Brent frowned, instantly understanding that something was going on. "Hold on." He indicated, pulling off the road onto a safe-ish stretch of shoulder. He flicked on the hazard lights, and the car was filled with their ticking…

_tick tick tick tick_

"When?" Arnold was whispering, his eyes huge, glassy. He barely seemed to notice as Helga pulled her legs from his, unlocking the door and struggling to clamber out, picking up the blanket as it fell out onto the ground.

He followed her out, stumbling blindly as he moved to lean against the side of the car.

"What's going on?" Dan called, earning him one of Helga's best scowls as she shut the door in his face. Dan was a sweetheart, really, but he was totally oblivious.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

She could see it in Arnold's face, in the slack set of his mouth, in his unfocussed eyes and suddenly pallid skin. He was hunched over, like his stomach hurt, his free hand ran through his hair.

"A nap?" His voice was small, disbelieving. Helga's heart twisted. It must be Phil. The old coot was in his nineties now… it made sense. _Poor Arnold_.

She stepped up to him, put her hands on his cheeks. The orange blink of the hazard lights lit up the side of his face, shining on the unshed tears in his eyes as he raised his gaze to hers.

"Yes… I will… tonight, yes… I'll call you as soon as I know what's happening… Is there anything else I can do?" He sniffed. "OK… I love you too Grandma… Of course… I'll be there as soon as I can… OK…"

"Fuck." He groaned as the call disconnected. His shoulders hunched, his teeth bared, he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

She slid her arms around his neck, leaning hard against him as he dropped his head to her shoulder. "Phil?" She asked, amazed at how her voice cracked.

His hands shook as he put them on her waist. He nodded, his head rasping her shirt against her sunburn, but she didn't care. _Poor Arnold… poor Gertie… _"Just went in his sleep…" His voice was breathy, gasping, like he was trying not to cry. "He always said he wouldn't… live past ninety one…"

"Oh… Shorty…"

"I have to go home…"

"Of course you do."

There was a pause, his chest shook as he drew in a deep breath. "Come with me?"

"Of course I will."

Like it was ever in question.


	11. It smells of cheap wine & cigarettes

Helga couldn't sleep.

She tossed and turned for hours, growing steadily more agitated as she shifted against the unfamiliar sheets.

She was tired, exhausted even. Her eyes burned, her head throbbed… but she still _couldn't sleep_. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity. Depressing, heart-breaking activity, and it was all whirling around in her head.

That Sunday night, when they had finally arrived back at the flat, they had thrown clothes into bags, booked over-priced plane tickets online (thanks to Bob's credit card… she was going to hear about that one when the bill came in), and got Brent to drop them off at the airport.

Since then, she'd somehow fallen into playing Sunset Arms hostess. She accepted offerings of food from neighbours, she tried to find room in the massive house for the influx of out-of-town funeral-goers who needed somewhere to sleep. She made untold cups of tea and did runs to the supermarket for milk and biscuits. She was knackered… but weirdly, content. It felt good to be useful, to take a little bit of the load from Gertie and Arnold.

And it wasn't like they didn't have enough to do. Helga fretted over Arnold as the dark circles grew under his eyes. He planned everything, called everyone. Her heart ached as she watched him take on tasks a 19 year old kid shouldn't have to shoulder… but he was doing well, she was _proud _of him.

He'd almost broken her heart at the funeral today, with his poignant, funny eulogy. He'd looked so handsome, so old-beyond-his-years standing up there in the brightest of Phil's old bowling shirts (because no one was allowed to wear black, on Gertie's orders). And at the house, later, he'd indulged every single person who wanted to tell him a _story _about Phil… he'd just been so… dignified.

But she knew he was hurting. He'd spent most of the last two nights awake, staring at the sky through his glass ceiling… she knew because she had watched him, curled onto her side on the mattress next to him, wanting to reach out to him, but having no idea what to say.

She hoped just being there was enough. She obviously thought at first that she'd stay at her parents house, but on that first night, when they stumbled out of the taxi at 2am, he'd just grasped her hand and asked her to stay with him… so she had. And the night after that, the house had been too full for her to sleep in another room… it wasn't until some of the guests had left that afternoon, after the service, that she'd relocated down to a spare bedroom… and now she was regretting it, worried he was lying there awake by himself, worried she should have just swallowed that slight feeling of _inappropriate _and slept in his bed again.

Dammit… she was _never _going to get to sleep.

She checked her phone, it was past 1am. Scowling, she flicked on the little bedside lamp and twisted herself out from under the tangled sheets. There was no use in trying to sleep, she'd go make herself a cup of tea and come back to bed to read.

She pulled on a pair of light pyjama pants and cracked the door open to tip-toe down the stairs.

But she wasn't the only one awake. Light spilled from the living-room doorway, and she could hear the rustling of pages. She peeked her head around the doorframe to see Gertie perched on the sofa, a photo album across her lap.

"Eleanor!" the little lady beamed as she looked up, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

Helga shrugged, stepping into the room. "Couldn't sleep. I was going to make a cup of tea, would you like one?"

"Make a pot, dear, and bring it through. I can't sleep tonight either."

_The poor woman. _Helga blinked tears away as she put the kettle on the stove top to boil. She moved around the kitchen on auto-pilot, pulling out cups and saucers from cupboards, and grabbing the tea tray from where it hung in the pantry.

How devastated must Gertie be right now? She and Phil had been together forever, their marriage had lasted over sixty years… she must feel… hollow. Helga couldn't even imagine what it must feel like to love someone like that… well, she could, but what must it feel like to have those feelings reciprocated? Then to lose that person? To be alone after being together so long? She shuddered… it would be like losing half of yourself… so lonely…

"Thanks, dear." Gertie smiled up at her when she put the tray down on the coffee table. The old lady patted the cushions next to her and turned the album slightly as Helga settled down beside her. "See that little girl there? That was me."

Helga giggled, leaning over to see the faded photograph better. Gertie was pigtailed, smiling sweetly into the camera, surrounded by other classmates. "Is that…" she trailed off, pointing to a boy on the other side of the group.

"Phil." The other woman sighed. "He was such a cute little thing." She smiled, her eyes tearing up again. "I used to call him chin boy."

Helga snickered. "Well, you can see why."

Gertie flipped the page. "That's Phil in his uniform… they all looked so dashing back then."

She was right… gangly, awkward looking Phil looked a million bucks in his smart army portrait, even his goofy smile came across as endearing under his cap. "Did you get married before the war?" She asked quietly, not sure what questions to ask.

"Oh heavens no." Gertie was grinning, touching her fingertips to the photograph. "Phil spent the war chasing skirt around the countryside..." She chuckled. "It took years for him to come to his senses and ask me to marry him."

"How did…" Helga felt awkward asking questions, felt like she was prying… but Gertie seemed to want to talk, to reminisce. "How did it all work out, after the war?"

"Oh, Phil took months to come back. After the Germans surrendered, he volunteered to help with the concentration camps… he was a different man when he finally came home…" Gertie carried on, explaining how things had changed in town, how so many of their boys came home injured, or depressed, if they came back at all… how the women were forced back into the kitchens when the returned soldiers took over their war-time jobs.

She showed Helga the photographs, told her how Phil had started calling on her, after they ran into each other in the factory where Gertie was working. She made Helga laugh when she recounted how she refused to stop wearing pants, and go back to wearing skirts…

"My mother's face, when I left for my first date with Phil in a pair of my brother's best britches…" she shook her head, smiling at Helga's chuckles.

"You telling her about how you wear the pants, Grandma?" Helga looked up, startled, at Arnold standing in the doorway, looking like shit. His hair was all over the place, his skin pale, the dark circles under his eyes almost green. Her heart ached… but at least he was smiling.

"Kimba!" Gertie grinned. "I'm just telling Eleanor here about your Grandpa…"

Helga shifted, making a gap between her and Arnold's Grandma. "C'mon Football Head… take a load off." She smiled. "You wanna cuppa?"

He picked his way around the coffee table and collapsed between them, leaning heavily against Helga's arm. "No thanks." He yawned. "Last thing I need is caffeine."

"Can't sleep either, huh?" She asked softly.

"Nah." He shrugged, and craned his neck to see the photos. "That's before you got married, right?" He asked, pointing at a picture of his grandparents, bathing-suit clad in front of a lake, grinning from ear to ear.

"Just before." Gertie affirmed, then went on, showing them photos of their wedding, their brief honeymoon, Phil standing proud, beaming next to a heavily pregnant Gertie… and photos of their little boy.

Helga recognised Miles from the pictures in the hallway, and the one next to Arnold's bed. He was a good looking guy, less goofy than his father, more classically handsome than his son… but you could see them both in his face.

There was a long silence as they all looked at the photos. A double page spread of Miles at various ages, grinning into the camera in all of them.

"He would have been proud of you, sweetheart." Gertie stretched a hand out to pat Arnold on the knee. "I know Phil was."

Helga glanced up. Arnold's gaze was trained on the photographs, his eyes all moist. He shrugged. Gertie smile kindly. "He was, Kimba. You've always been such a good boy. Smart, too… and he approved of your girlfriend." She raised a wizened old eyebrow at Helga, her smile growing cheeky.

_Geeze. _Helga didn't know what to say.

Arnold baulked at that. "Oh, no, Grandma… me and Helga, we aren't… we aren't like that…"

But Gertie just waved a hand at him. "My foot you're not. You're just like them, you father and Phil… they liked a woman with hutzpah."

Helga felt her cheeks warming up. That was… really flattering. She felt like she should be more embarrassed, but she was just… flattered.

"No… really… Grandma…" Arnold looked aghast, he sat up a bit, breaking the contact between their arms. _Well… you don't have to be _quite _so disgusted at the idea. _Helga frowned. "We're not dating… or anything… we're not!"

Gertie just chuckled, and patted him on the knee again. "Alright Kimba." She shook her head, obviously still not believing him. Patronising old duck. Helga couldn't help but smile. "I think I might be able to sleep now." She shut the album and slid it over onto the coffee table. "Goodnight Kimba, Eleanor." She struggled up from the low sofa, using her hands to brace herself before she shuffled out of the room… suddenly looking her age.

When she was gone, Arnold turned to face Helga, his cheeks bright red, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'm real sorry about that…" He stammered, staring at her.

She just shrugged. "I don't care… let her think it. What harm could it do?"

He blinked. "You don't mind?"

She shook her head, meeting his gaze. "Everyone else already thinks we are… I had to get used to that idea ages ago. But… fuck em… they can think what they want. It doesn't change the truth, does it?" She sounded calm… _far _more calm than she felt. Truth was, the fact that _the gang _thought her and Arnold were banging really, _really _bothered her… but there was nothing she could do about it, so she pretended not to care.

"What?" Arnold frowned. "_Who _thinks we're… uh…"

"Everyone. Everyone but Phoebe, as far as I can tell." And she wasn't even sure Phoebe believed her.

"Wow… that's…"

"Fucked up?"

"Uh… yeah." He was blushing harder, his eyes focussing somewhere behind her shoulder. She tried not to feel resentful… but for some reason his reactions to the mere _idea _of bedding her was making her prickle.

He cleared his throat. "You know I wouldn't… um…" He glanced up at her, but she just raised an eyebrow, wondering what an earth he was going to say next. "If I did, uh, _anything _with one of _the gang_… it'd be, well… I wouldn't do it lightly… you know?"

She smirked. Typical white knight. "Yeah, I know."

"I mean… if I _did _do something with one of you guys… it'd have to be pretty serious, you know?"

She snorted at that. "Yeah, Arnold, I _know_. Jesus man, you don't have to defend yourself to me. It's not like you've done anything wrong."

He nodded. "Yeah. I suppose."

She sighed, feeling bad for snarking at him. Poor dude was probably half delirious with grief and exhaustion. "You look shattered… have you slept _at all _since we got here?"

He shook his head. "Not really…"

She sighed, shaking her head. "C'mon Dozy, lets get you to bed." She led him upstairs, making a mental note to clean up the teapot and stuff in the morning. "Nite, Shorty." She smiled as he put a foot onto the first of the attic stairs.

"You wanna come up with me?" He asked, hushed, his eyelids heavy.

"For christ's sake Arnold… do you really wonder why people think we're fucking?" She raised an eyebrow. Surely he could see how weird this was.

He shrugged, then surprised her by grinning. "You said yourself, fuck 'em… we know the truth."

_Argh_. She sneered, hating herself for giving in so easily when she threw her hands up. "Fine… fine. I dunno why you even want me up there, but _fine_." She huffed. "Lead the way."

God she hated him and his self satisfied smirk. If he wasn't in mourning she would have whacked him one… although she didn't quite know _why _she felt so slighted…

They climbed beneath his sheets, him flat on his back, his arms behind his head, her curled onto her side, facing him, seething.

They lay in silence, a weird _tension _in the air, until he sighed. "I just kinda feel like company", knocking all the righteous air out of her sails. His whispered confession tugged at her heartstrings, but she didn't reply, just reached out to quickly squeeze his elbow before drawing her hand back under the covers.

He must have really been exhausted, because he was asleep five minutes later, and she quickly followed suit.


End file.
